


In Aeternum

by deusreks



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deusreks/pseuds/deusreks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki felt his presence as gooseflesh on the back of his neck, sudden electricity in the air. He would know this feeling in the dark; he’d known it since he’d first set his eyes on the prodigal son of Tsukiyama Mirumo who has come to attend yet another college where he is expected to graduate within a year. </p>
<p>But that wasn’t why Kaneki’s heart leaped right into his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Aeternum

_And this same flower that smiles today_  
_Tomorrow will be dying._  
— **Robert Herring**

 

The mansion stood tall and mighty, as intimidating as the very name of the Tsukiyama family; a glorious monster with golden mouth for an entrance through which, when they entered, Kaneki Ken and Hideyoshi Nagachika felt as if they were about to be chewed and spat out.

Hide tugged at the red tie of his new suit, a poor attempt at hiding discomfort. “We look out of place.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m wearing my best suit,” Kaneki said.

Hide gave him an incredulous look. “That is your _only_ suit.”

“And _therefore_ , my best suit.”

Friendly banter relieved some of the tension from Hide’s shoulders as they walked further into the hall teeming with people dressed to the teeth and mingling with each other in light conversations. The floor was black marble, on its surface a reflection of rose garden mosaic plastered on the ceiling. Golden chandeliers shed light on the wall murals and mouldings. The furniture was white and simple, serving as a decoration or a piece of art rather than a place to sit.

Hide grabbed a glass of wine as soon as the waiter passed by and gulped it down at once.

Kaneki regarded him with raised eyebrows.

“Liquid courage,” justified Hide as he left the empty glass on the first table they walked past. “Being here makes me uncomfortable. Are we still in Japan?”

“It’s an _honor_ that we were invited in the first place,” Kaneki pointed out.

“ _’We’_? You mean ‘ _you’_ were _i_ nvited. I’m just a sidekick with a camera.”

“Hide, don’t—“

“There he is,” Hide interrupted and Kaneki followed his line of sight towards a set of ornate staircases. Down the bloody river of its carpet descended Tsukiyama Shuu, his looks effortlessly outmatching everyone in the room _combined_. Company flocked to him the moment he was within reach; he didn’t have to _take_ anyone’s attention with a charming smile or the flirtatious fluttering of his eyelashes – attention came to him on its own and he fed on it like his admirers fed on his presence.

Five years ago, in France, he had effortlessly won Kaneki’s attention too. Night had fallen but Kaneki was still knee-deep in work, as a promising student on a scholarship would be, when Shuu entered without knocking, quietly, as if guilty of something.

Kaneki felt his presence as goose flesh on the back of his neck, sudden electricity in the air. He would know this feeling in the dark; he’d known it since he’d first set his eyes on _the prodigal son of Tsukiyama Mirumo who has come to attend yet another university where he is expected to graduate within a year._ Tsukiyama family’s numerous _generous_ donations to the university, and wider, had made the name Tsukiyama one to revere; and one to envy.

But that wasn’t why Kaneki’s heart leaped right into his throat. Shuu sauntered over, his slender fingers brushing the surface of desks as if checking for dust. His suit fit him handsomely, his skin only made paler by the dark fabric. He didn’t look like a student who had come by after classes; he looked an incandescent performance of a piece not meant for mortals.

He hadn’t changed since then; modern Dorian Gray. Time couldn’t lay its hands on him if it wanted.

“Will you pick your jaw up from the floor, or shall I do it for you?” Hide’s voice swept away the dust of memories blinding Kaneki’s eyes.

He frowned, though a flush stained his cheeks. “My jaw wasn’t—“

The thought was left unfinished because Shuu had broken away from the crowd and was heading in Kaneki’s direction. Kaneki straightened his back, met Shuu’s eyes as an equal. He was no longer a college student on a budget, with but meager recognized articles in a university magazine. He was a big name in Tokyo’s top-selling newspaper, and an author whose first novel is about to be published. The long 25 years that he had lived were enough to give him _this_ and he was proud of it. A piece of him hoped Shuu would be proud too.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Shuu said. He held out his hand and Kaneki loved a challenge.

“You requested me. _Specifically_ ,” Kaneki replied and offered his hand as beckoned. Shuu’s fingers but lightly touched the pads of his Kaneki’s fingers as he kissed the back of Kaneki’s palm. His lips were barely a whisper over Kaneki’s skin but Kaneki felt it down to his toes.

Hide fell silent by Kaneki’s side; or rather, he was rendered _speechless_.

“Did that bother you?” Shuu asked.

“No,” Kaneki admitted. “It surprised me. I didn’t think you’d choose me after—after everything.”

“‘ _After everything_ ’ is _why_ I chose you,” Shuu’s eyes were relentless as they bore into Kaneki’s. He wasn’t allowed to look away. “I thought you’d know by now.”

Kaneki opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before any words could come out. Shuu’s eyes fell, almost disappointed, on his lips.

“You’ll have to excuse me, there are more guests to be greeted,” Shuu said. “Feel free to mingle and relax. I’m counting on you to write a good story.”

Kaneki watched Shuu walk away to a group of elderly men engaged in, he presumed, idle gossip. He had been at big parties held by rich families and knew the inner workings of such social events. He was to grab the most important bits of the story, take a few pictures and write high praise of the _generous_ , influential host.

Hide cleared his throat. “Did you _not_ find it important to tell me you knew Tsukiyama Shuu? For how long?”

“Since France,” Kaneki said. He didn’t mean to keep it a secret and he couldn’t meet Hide’s eyes for the fear of what he’d find there. All that mattered to him, he shared with Hide who listened and cared. Yet he could never find courage to tell him about Shuu.

“How did you meet?”

“He requested me then, too. He liked my works and wanted all stories about him to be written by me.”

Hide scratched his head. Some of the ‘best friend’s’ pride must’ve stopped hurting. “A big shot even in France, huh.”

“His father was. Now it’s his turn, here in Japan,” Kaneki said, keeping his speech succinct. He needn’t speak more than Hide requested; nor did he want to.

Hide and Kaneki split up to do their jobs. Hide supplied the finest photographs of any event; photography was his passion and nowhere did he look more at home than behind a lens of a camera. Kaneki took note of important figures that had appeared to see Tsukiyama Mirumo’s only son who had come to Japan to inherit and run his father’s company.

The reception was luxurious, the banquet even more so, and Shuu’s speech tugged at enough heartstrings to bring in new supporters of the Tsukiyama family and their causes. Shuu was groomed for this role, assumed it in a way that would make his father proud; there was no other way this night could’ve gone.

Kaneki had only drunk one glass of wine but he felt dizzy; _dizzier_ at the sight of Shuu. He lost track of Hide’s whereabouts and sought respite on the balcony, away from the main hall. The moon was at its peak, the night deep as gentle breeze swept across Kaneki’s face. He closed his eyes against it and let the inevitable come to drown him like a man who couldn’t swim.

Five years ago, the reason for Shuu’s first visit to Kaneki was to ask him to cover his interview for University’s magazine. Before Shuu had come to study in Paris, he had studied in Rome and London, graduated _cum laude_ years before his time; that, combined with his father’s importance in politics and medicine, earned him the status of a celebrity.

As a youth of mere 20 years, Kaneki was self-sufficient and fought tooth and nail to seize every opportunity; the existence of Tsukiyama Shuu, with his abundance of _everything_ from good looks, money, influence and connections to his brains, was a reminder that some people were born luckier than others.

Kaneki admired him.

Kaneki envied him.

He jumped at the opportunity to interview Shuu. He had been nervous for days prior to their arraignment. He even arrived early to Tsukiyama estate; such was the extent of his enthusiasm. Shuu welcomed his eagerness, invited him to his lavish chambers where they conducted a long interview.

“Why did you choose me?” Kaneki had asked once he’d concluded their interview. He had enough material for a couple of pages and he’d still have to remove superfluous questions.

Shuu uncrossed his legs and crossed them again. Kaneki’s eyes followed the movement.

“My father keeps track of promising students,” Shuu said. “And I’ve read your articles, they’re all a wonderful read; even when you’re writing about boring, mundane university affairs.”

Kaneki looked down to conceal his burning cheeks. “Thank you.”

Shuu walked him out and waved as the taxi drove away until Kaneki could no longer see him in the night.

And then Kaneki realized his phone was gone; all cliché’s start with returning and seeing something that wasn’t meant for one’s eyes. Kaneki’s cliché came with a price he was still paying.

The moon disappeared behind clouds, taking pale light with him and pulling Kaneki back into present.

A pleasant voice cut through the silence.

“This is still a bad habit of yours.”

Shuu came to stand next to Kaneki. Unlike Kaneki, he didn’t rest his elbows on the balustrade; his suit was far too expensive to be sullied.

“I need to recharge,” Kaneki admitted.

“Should I leave?”

“No,” Kaneki said and turned to look at Shuu. He could only see the side of his face that was illuminated by the lights from the hall but even the outline of him was intoxicating.

Shuu lifted his hand, brought it to Kaneki’s face. His fingers threaded lightly over Kaneki’s lips, teasing the pink flesh.

“Should you be provoking a scandal already?” Kaneki said as he fought the desire to close his eyes. If he gave in, he’d blame the wine; it was a perfect crime.

“Would you let me kiss you otherwise?”

“I might,” Kaneki said, smiling as words spilled from his mouth. “If you pull me into that corner where we can’t be seen.” How easily did his body betray him.

Shuu didn’t have to be told twice; a charming smile added to his princely appearance as he backed away into the suggested corner, pulling Kaneki with him. He was beautiful like that: acting like a cornered animal when _he_ was the one who had to lean down so Kaneki could reach him.

They kissed slowly; savoring one another like one would savour the last bite of their favorite meal. Kaneki broke the kiss, presed his lips to Shuu’s neck instead. He kissed the column of Shuu’s throat. He bit down just behind the collar of his shirt. He heard Shuu hiss pleasurably in his ear. They shivered in each other’s arms.

Inside the hall, a commotion had started. Clamor of people seeking Shuu’s company.  

“A host shouldn’t disappear on his guests,” Kaneki teased. He felt reborn where they’ve kissed.

“I hate that you’re right,” Shuu said. He brought Kaneki’s wrist to his lips and kissed the life coursing through his veins. His eyes bore into Kaneki’s. “You must be tired. You’ve seen all that was important of this evening, go home and rest. Write a magnificent article.”

“Of course.”

He watched Shuu fix himself and walk away, nothing but fondness filling his heart. In moments like those, trapped between time and reality, Shuu was his and his only.

But that was not how they had begun.

When Kaneki had returned to Tsukiyama mansion to pick up his phone, he met no resistance except for his own guilty conscience for entering once his welcome had expired. He found his way back to Shuu’s room and opened the doors swiftly, to announce his presence. If he had thought of knocking first, perhaps he wouldn’t have frozen at the sight before him.

Moments passed between his erratic heartbeats, his vision flicking on and off like a faulty light bulb.  

Lights on. Shuu’s mouth on a woman’s neck. Lights off. Lights on. Shuu looking _right_ at Kaneki, eyes smouldering. Lights off. Lights on. Blood dripping down Shuu’s chin, to his bare chest. Lights off. Lights on. Kaneki’s phone on the table to his left. Lights off. Lights on. Shuu licked the blood on his lips, fangs as he spoke. Lights off. Lights on. Kaneki didn’t hear him. He grabbed the phone and ran.

That night, Kaneki didn’t sleep. He couldn’t if he wanted to. The image of Shuu, bloody and ravenous, white on red, was tattooed on Kaneki’s eyelids. He busied himself with preparing the interview for publishing; his vision was steady only when he worked and that’s what he did until the first signs of morning light.

When he went to classes, he kept looking behind him, wondering when Shuu might appear and snap his neck for what he’d seen. Presence of the sun offered him some peace, and he hoped that mythologies were true.

There was no sign of Shuu until his interview had been published.

He came when the sun went down; it made sense now, why he didn’t come to morning and afternoon classes yet still passed. He had cut out his article with the interview and brought it with him. Kaneki swallowed a bulk of saliva as Shuu approached him in a small room.

“I was half-expecting a title featuring an unflattering noun ‘ _blood-sucker’_ ,” Shuu said. “But this article is lovely, as yours usually are.”

Kaneki stood from his chair. “Are you going to kill me?”

Shuu tilted his head, the article dangling between his pale fingers. “Why would I kill you?”

“Because I know your secret,” Kaneki said. “And I _may_ be sweating profusely but I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

Shuu laughed a boisterous laugh that wasn’t fit for a man with his looks. “How can you say that so _calmly_?”

Kaneki heard the crescendo of his blood pumping through his heart. “I’d say I’m pretty nervous.”

“Are you not aware of it?” Shuu said and stepped closer. His expression was genuinely puzzled.

He placed his open palm on the surface of the desk. “Regardless of knowing what I am, hearts of people who are in my presence go,” he said and tapped the desk in pairs of two rapid taps. “But yours goes,” he said and patted the desk, gently, with evenly spaced hits of his palm.

Kaneki hardly believed that.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Shuu said, a devious grin on his lips. “You _think_ you want to run, but your heart wants to stay.”

Once his mind had stopped spinning around thoughts of imminent death, bits and pieces of logical information fell into place. It made sense that Shuu only walked in the cover of night; it made sense that his appearance never got smeared by time; it made sense that he had accomplished so much yet never seemed worried about his age.

Kaneki’s envy increased.

So did his yearning.

 

Kaneki stretched in his chair as a painful crick settled in his neck. He had been one of the last to leave the office. His article came out in yesterday’s newspaper. This meant—

Shuu was waiting outside the building.

“You’re here,” Kaneki said, his smile giving him away. Shuu was a sight for sore eyes.

“Old habits die hard,” Shuu said as he opened the doors to the passenger seat of his car. “Since you’ve graced me with yet another wonderful article, I thought we could celebrate.”

Kaneki got into the car.

It was like this five years ago too; Shuu made a habit of hanging around when Kaneki was writing or after he had been done writing. In return, Kaneki found excuses to stay up late; to leave certain doors unlocked. Kaneki took every second of Shuu’s time he was willing to offer and enjoyed it for what it was.

Shuu drove back to his mansion.

“I actually didn’t have a celebration planned, but would you mind if I showed you something?” Shuu admitted as they walked through the mansion doors.

“Lead the way,” Kaneki said.

Shuu skipped stairs as they climbed; clearly excited at the idea of taking Kaneki to whatever he wanted to show him. One would think he would’ve seen and felt everything by now yet there he was, jumping out of his skin at something that was probably simple.

Kaneki chuckled at the sight of his long limbs now skipping steps of a spiral staircase.

Once upstairs, in the only room on the top floor, Shuu spread his arms, exclaimed, “ _Voilà_!”

Kaneki ceased every movement, his breathing stopping with it too. The room was circular, lit by a few scarce wall lights. _There was no need for lights_ , Kaneki thought, because the ceiling was glass and it opened to a marvelous sight of the night sky. Stars spilled over the endless darkness, stardust raining on numerous bookshelves surrounding the room on each side. In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed; next to it, a desk and a nightstand.

“It’s bigger than the one in France,” Kaneki said, voice brimming with awe. He walked around the room, touching books on the bookshelves as he did so.

“I made sure it was,” Shuu followed him. “And another thing.” Kaneki turned to see what Shuu was talking about to see that Shuu was holding a key. “For the mansion. Whenever you want to come by, please do.”

Kaneki hesitated before taking the key. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Kaneki took the key, tucked it in his pocket. It was as though that key had a life of its own; Kaneki felt its presence in his pocket, it pulsated against the fabric and onto his skin.

Kaneki recalled the time spent in a room akin to this one in France. That was where Shuu had told him he was over 200 years old and where he had laughed when Kaneki told him who his favorite authors were. ‘ _Some of them are bigger pieces of work than their prose_ ,’ Shuu had said, with familiarity. Kaneki laughed at that as well. At one point, Shuu began looking at Kaneki’s mouth, or his neck, and soon enough, Kaneki found himself looking at Shuu’s too. Then Kaneki kissed him and a lot of evenings after that were spent kissing, nothing more and nothing less.

“I would’ve never returned to France. I thought you’d wait forever,” Kaneki confessed. He’d gotten a great job offer in Japan and since Shuu wasn’t mad, he must've understood.

“I got tired of waiting,” Shuu said, his smile twisted with uncertainty. “Which is odd for me to say. _I_ have time.” He turned to Kaneki. “But _you_ don’t.”

Kaneki took his hand in his own and squeezed. He wished the warmth of his palm would communicate to Shuu what his mouth couldn’t.

Shuu asked, “Did you consider my proposal?”

Kaneki bit his lip. “I feel the same as I did then,” he said, truthfully.

Shuu closed his eyes, opened them again after a moment. “I _cannot_ give up eternal life,” he said, desperate.

“And I _cannot_ give you mine.”

Shuu made that face, the one when he tried not to cry. His eyes sank as if somebody decided it was time for _lights off_ in the beautiful crevices of his mind. His bottom lip trembled.

“It seems our souls are at odds,” Shuu said.

It was obvious from the start – Shuu loved eternity, Kaneki was glad he didn’t have to.

“Yes,” Kaneki said, palms closing on either side of Shuu’s face. Shuu leaned down on reflex. “Our _souls_.”

Kaneki pressed his lips to Shuu’s and they were kissing. Shuu tasted of everything he wanted to give, and everything Kaneki couldn’t take.

They stumbled to the bed, Kaneki pressing Shuu gently into the sheets. Shuu opened up, arms and legs spread as if he were trying to make a snow angel on the sheets, unbeknownst that he was an angel himself.

Kaneki kissed him until they were breathless and panting, and until Shuu forgot himself enough to release his fangs, sharp and deadly things. Kaneki couldn’t resist kissing each and it served him right when he cut his bottom lip on one. Blood dripped steadily into Shuu’s mouth and he swallowed every drop greedily as if he’d been hungry all these years and had only now learned the taste of blood.

Shuu’s hips lifted off the bed but he remained underneath Kaneki; a proof of his masterful self-control even as every muscle in his body trembled with desire to flip Kaneki over. Shuu could do it if he wanted to; position himself over Kaneki, suck his blood dry as he fucked him into the mattress. Such was the difference in their strength.

But Shuu would never do that, and Kaneki loved him for it.

Next kiss was hungrier. Kaneki’s hands pulled at Shuu’s hair, wanting him closer. Shuu was sucking at Kaneki’s bloodied lip, drawing more blood. Kaneki listened to his heartbeat and the way it screamed ‘ _this is happening’_.

“Blood looks good on you,” Shuu said as he pulled away. The very blood he spoke of was running down his chin and neck, obscenely.

“And you speak differently in the presence of blood,” Kaneki teased. There was something animalistic in Shuu now. Kaneki wanted to tame it. Or own it wild. _Or both_.

“May I—Can we?” Kaneki fumbled. It struck him how often he’d thought about this yet how seldom he’d pondered what he’d actually do when the moment came.

“Yes.”

There was no passionate discarding of clothing, no teasing piece by piece off each other, only tearing at each other until they were skin on skin. Unguarded by fabric, Shuu’s skin gave a translucent glow in the moonlight. Kaneki kissed every inch of it. Shuu was so cold that Kaneki felt like the sun, about to melt him.

“The upper drawer,” Shuu’s words came out raw and wanting. He felt it enough to urge Kaneki on.

Kaneki found what he was looking for, a bottle of lube, and some other items he’d have to ask Shuu about later. Shuu’s thigh twitched as Kaneki let it rest on his shoulder, its weight grounding Kaneki in reality.

Kaneki pressed a finger into him, slowly, gauging his reaction, unsure if this worked the same for vampires as it did for humans.

The way Shuu gradually loosened to accommodate another finger told Kaneki that it worked. Shuu’s breathing came in short gasps; the sight of him shattered tested Kaneki’s patience.

“Kaneki,” Shuu’s voice was a whimper, his body broken porcelain. “ _Enough_.”

Kaneki removed his fingers and replaced them with his arousal, hot and insisting. Shuu trembled against the friction, swallowed his cries as Kaneki pushed deeper. He steadied himself above Shuu, his hand biting into Shuu’s thigh.

Kaneki found his rhythm in slow, methodical grinding that had Shuu closing his eyes against the sensation and biting into his lip to prevent cries that spilled from his mouth anyway. Kaneki wanted to follow suit, to close his eyes and drive into the impossible tightness, but he found himself unable to look away. This moment, in all its fragility, was precious to Kaneki in a way Shuu could never understand.

Kaneki burned this image of Shuu into his mind; his perfect hair disheveled; his pert nipples red against the white skin; his mouth open and inviting; his lips red with Kaneki’s blood; his neck vulnerable for biting; his body pulled taut and eager and close—

Shuu cried as he came, a beautiful, feral sound that drew Kaneki’s own release in the moments that followed.

Kaneki crumbled next to Shuu, body light and empty.

“If I don’t go now, I’ll fall asleep,” Kaneki said, breathless.

“Then sleep,” Shuu said as he brushed hair off Kaneki’s sweaty forehead. He himself was mussed and ruined but so completely sated he almost glowed.

“Won’t you be bored without me?”

There was a slight pause between them; Kaneki’s eyelids closed against the silence.

Shuu might’ve said something afterwards but Kaneki had already dozed off.

 

A month later, Kaneki was trembling with excitement as he entered Shuu’s mansion. His bag was heavy with his soul poured into effort that had finally borne fruit. He climbed to the last floor, found Shuu lying on the bed and reading under the dim lights. He sat up when he saw Kaneki.  

Kaneki didn’t waste time on greetings. He approached Shuu and sat in his lap, knees on either side of Shuu’s thighs. Shuu was momentarily taken aback, but then his hands settled on Kaneki’s thighs and Kaneki could wrap his hands around Shuu’s neck.

“I’ve asked you this when we first met, but sometimes I still wonder ‘ _why me_ ’?”

“Why _not_ you?”

The reply was more than Kaneki could’ve ever asked for.

“I have a surprise,” Kaneki said and reached inside his bag. “I wanted to keep it a secret until it was official.”

Shuu regarded him curiously.

Kaneki pulled out a book. The cover was smooth and shiny, its smell new.  He gave it to Shuu.

Shuu hesitated to take it as if he worried his hands might hurt it. “You wrote it?” His eyes swelled with pride; or perhaps tears. He looked at Kaneki as if he saw him for the first time.

“So it says on the cover,” Kaneki said, scratching the side of his face. Shuu’s reaction made him shy.  

Shuu read the backside of the book, fingers caressing the printed words as if they could really touch them.

“Read the dedication,” Kaneki urged.

Shuu flipped a couple of pages.

“ _’In aeternum_ ’,” Shuu read. “’ _If you ever find yourself lonely in eternity, open this book. I’m still here._ ’”

Shuu closed the book and let out a cry that seemed to come from his dormant heart.

“ _Kaneki_ ,” Shuu said in a voice that broke Kaneki’s heart. He pulled Kaneki to his chest, hid his face in the crook of his neck. “Would you _please_ reconsider? Would you _please_ not go?”

“I’m still here,” Kaneki said and pressed a kiss to the crown of Shuu’s head.

On his shoulder, a beast wept until dawn.

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> All important ships in my life get a vampire!au. I just love the whole idea of immortality vs. mortality; how an immortal being loves being immortal even if who they love is decaying and leaving every minute of every day, and also how the mortal cherishes every moment with the immortal being because their time together is limited. I thought it fit TsukiKane. I was thinking about writing an alternative “happier” ending from Shuu’s POV but I felt like this one was the most in character for both of them. I hope you enjoyed!


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